


Take me Home

by Sky_King



Category: Bleach, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Child!Zelda, Deaf Character, Deaf Link (Legend of Zelda), Established Relationship, Family, Family Fluff, Family Shenanigans, Found Family, Ichigo lives with Kisuke, M/M, Past Lives, Talk about reincarnation, Tween!Link, UraIchi Week 2019, Zelda likes pancakes, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 21:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18902659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_King/pseuds/Sky_King
Summary: When Ichigo finds a collapsed boy with pointed ears on the side of the road, he knew they were in for an adventure.Never would he had thought that he and Kisuke would end up with two kind-of-adopted children, tasked with saving the world.Maybe they can't remove the weight of lives past, but they sure can help them lighten the weight of the current life. That's what family is for, right?





	Take me Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was written so long ago, wow. Finally it sees the light.  
> Uhhh... I had always wanted to have Link and Ichigo sharing a drink and complaninng or comiserating about their respective shitty destinies, but Link... sort of became a tween?
> 
> Anyway, disclaimer I am not deaf. I did a quick search about how to write sign-language dialogue and the prevalent sentiment was to write it just as you would any other language. BUT I'm open for discussion if you feel like there's something wrong, thanks in advance!

“Kisuke,” Ichigo said, voice like a whip as he barged into his shoten without even a hello. His expression was calm but his voice was solid steel. “I found a child.”

The blond shopkeeper would have thought that finding an unconscious child wherever Ichigo had been would have taken them to the hospital and not to his humble shop but on a second glance he noticed the child’s pointy ears and he understood.

He didn’t know what kind of child he was, but he understood they were knocking on the supernatural’s doors.

Kisuke smiled, dangerous like a polished knife. “Pray tell, love. Where have you been?”

 

 

 

* * *

Kisuke just knew that they had taken in a whole slew of new problems by the way the child woke up. Between one breath and the next, his reiatsu had spiked as he woke up, and before Ichigo could do anything about it, the boy yelped, sprang to his feet and slammed his fist against his boyfriend’s jaw. He proceeded to perform the highest form of gymnastics as he flipped backwards and scrambled for a way out.

Kisuke felt mildly bad for standing in his way, but it was probably in everyone’s best interest for the kid to remain.

Perhaps sensing his strength, the kid didn’t try to get past him, but he stayed in a fighting stance, fists raised high to protect his face. His eyes were fierce and somehow _ageless and old_ , as they looked at the world around him. Which, given by his abnormal reiatsu, his pointed ears and his foreign clothing style, wasn’t all that unbelievable.

“Forgive us, but we need you to calm down, dear stranger.” Kisuke said, his voice soft and mellow, like the presence he was trying to project. His hands were raised and open and his eyes as relaxed as he could make them. But still the young teen’s sharp eyebrows drew together, as a wild expression of fear and confusion washed over him.

Hesitant and wary, the elf-like boy lowered his hands and made some sharp if unrecognizable gestures with his fingers repeatedly pointing his way–pointer hand resting on the other’s wrist.

“Oh dear,” Kisuke said. “You do not understand me, do you?”

 

 

* * *

Kisuke had dug out the laptop Ichigo had given him as a birthday gift all those years ago, and was looking up a way to communicate with the child, or so Ichigo hoped. Meanwhile he was sitting next to the strange boy, watching him eat as if this was his last meal.

They had already tried communicating by writing, but somehow, the glyphs the kid had written hadn’t been understood by his husband's eidetic brain. Which only cemented the idea that this child didn’t belong in their world.

“Where do you come from?” Ichigo couldn’t help but mumble, voice slightly muffled by his propped hand.

The elf-like kid looked up from stuffing his face with rice, giving him a wary glance. Ichigo was about to apologize, as a knee-jerk reaction when his boyfriend let out a satisfied noise, drawing their attention.

“I have found a match! Well, several matches, actually. I don’t think his signing belongs to any particular nation. But it shares a lot of similarities with the American continent.”

“I might be mistaken,” Ichigo started wryly. “But I’m pretty sure there are a ton of different signing languages in a single continent.”

His husband couldn’t look happier, “Quite!”

 

 

* * *

Apparently having cracked the code, Kisuke began communicating with the kid, figuring out his name (“L-I-N-K”), where he was from (he’d made several signs that hadn’t popped a match, so he had resorted to finger-spelling “H-Y-R-U-L-E”, much to his disgruntlement) and what he had been doing before collapsing on a busy park.

That last one, was a bit of a problem.

“What do you mean you’re here to kill someone?” Ichigo demanded to know, rubbing the bridge of his nose, forgetting himself briefly. Having foreseen this, Kisuke began signing as he spoke, and Ichigo was rewarded with seeing his boyfriend do a very sharp motion of stabbing someone, with a big goofy grin on himself.

Link shrugged.

 

* * *

“Ok, so he’s from some fantasy land, he’s the chosen one and he needs to find his reincarnated arch nemesis before everything goes kaboom.” Ichigo sighed, clutching his cup of tea as they neared midnight, and wishing it was sake. “Why does this keep happening to me? Never mind that, thank fuck I’m not some chosen hero. I would have murdered someone if I had to keep being reborn to vanquish the reborned evil.”

Kisuke, sitting by his side, only snorted. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a word. And if you want to get literal, he does end up killing someone every reincarnation, so- “

“Don’t get smart-ass on me. This is weird enough without your input.”

Kisuke knocked his shoulders against his, casting a look over to the direction of his guest's room-where Link should be sleeping in. “I have a feeling I should be surprised that you are _not_ by the fact that we have a literal fairy boy in our hands.”

“Excuse me, I fought a butterfly man to the death. I’m done with being surprised.”

 

 

* * *

“Excuse me, Kisuke. Why are there two children in our home?”

“He said he found Zelda.”

“Wasn’t Zelda a princess?”

“Indeed.”

“She’s like five.”

“He’s surprised as well. It is not often that their reincarnations vary so much in age.”

“Kisuke you do realize there are two blonde, pretty children, clearly not our own, who can’t speak our language, living in our home.”

“…I can see your concerns.”

 

 

* * *

The kid gave them a nickname. Well, more like he gave Ichigo a nickname and Kisuke couldn’t stop laughing for two days straight.

The cheeky kid rubbed his eyes one morning and made a very peculiar gesture. He raised his left hand to the side of his head, opening and closing two fingers in a mimic of a rabbit ear, then dragging his hand down to his mouth and pretended to bite into something.

“Are you hungry?” Ichigo had asked, confused and just as tired as he made his way out of his and Kisuke’s bedroom. He remembered himself, and made some choppy signs to ask if he wanted breakfast.

Link giggled to himself, before nodding his head anyway. Ichigo was suspicious, but he dragged the kid with him to make sure not to make anything he wouldn’t like.

The kid had asked just for some bread and fruit the first couple days, so Ichigo had taken upon himself to teach Link about what a balanced meal was. Which meant that he had cooked everything from steamed rice with a miso soup on the side, to Shokupan with jam, and other more western options. Yuzu had been elated he had called her to get even more options, and had given him a dozen more recipes along with the promise of visiting them one of these days.

Ichigo was half sure she had assumed they had adopted a child, and honestly, at this point it may just be true.

But back to the important stuff, Kisuke had walked out of the bedroom- somehow looking even more unkempt than Ichigo himself- and sat at the table to wait like the useless husband that he was.

“What are we having for breakfast, love?” He had asked, his smile widening when all Ichigo did was roll his eyes and just serve him as well.

“Hot cakes, Zelda told me she wanted some, yesterday.”

“Is she still asleep?” Kisuke asked Link. The boy looked up from his meal, cheeks stuffed full, as he signed back his confirmation. She had had another vision of Lives Past, and they both had stayed up late, reminiscing and trying to think about the reason they were dumped into this world.

 

For looking so tiny, the little girl had been terribly articulate and poised, which Kisuke seemed to love, and in turn made Link even happier to be there.

The girl was fluent in Japanese, as well as a dozen different languages, and despite her apparent age, her eyes were as old as Link’s.

Timeless, old, and tired.

She had also been wary about Kisuke, and to a lesser extent about Ichigo, but she seemed to trust Link’s judgement a whole lot more than the kid himself. It also helped that Ichigo pampered her like the royal princess she had been once upon a time.

“Queen.” She had corrected him the first time, standing straight and looking the part, somehow managing to look at Ichigo down her nose. Before Ichigo could think about correcting himself, the girl had giggled and dropped the act. “But I do spend most of my lifetimes as princess. Less responsibilities are always nice.”

“Princess it is,” Ichigo had said without missing a beat and then –to his husband’s eternal bemusement– had made the both of them bow.

 

It was no wonder she loved him.

 

The boy had turned to Ichigo and did that curious signaling again. Two fingers by his head, mimicking a rabbit ear, then down to his mouth, as if eating something.

“Okay, I’m sorry I don’t understand that.” Ichigo said, looking back at his husband for help. He squinted when the man smiled at him.

“It’s a nickname, love. You have earned a name.”

“And what does it mean?”

Kisuke outright laughed, reaching up to grab a fistful of his hair, tugging softly. “It means carrot head.”

Ichigo looked affronted.

 

 

 

* * *

They screamed a lot. In their dreams.

The first time Link had woken up screaming, Ichigo had busted the door to their room, sword in hand and about two seconds away from committing murder. Kisuke was right behind him, hands glowing yellow, ready to immobilize.

Without giving them time to properly understand the situation, Zelda gave a frightened scream, as she called forth some foreign magical barrier that propelled Ichigo out of the room, as she ran to protect Link from harm.

“Wait, it’s us! Are you okay-?!” Ichigo exclaimed even as he fell backwards. Kisuke was too busy dispelling his bakudou, and showing his unarmed hands to the frightened princess to catch his husband, but still winced sympathetically as he hit the ground.

“We apologize, we thought you were being attacked. You do know we mean no harm, right?” Kisuke said, as soon as Zelda looked up to him, and smiled encouragingly as the girl slowly and hesitatingly lowered her hands. The purple barrier disappeared from sight, but most certainly not from mind.

“Sorry,” Is all she said, as she hurried back to Link’s side. The boy didn’t seem to notice the commotion at all, breathing shallowly, with tears falling from his wild, terrified eyes. When Zelda hugged him, he seemed to realize her presence and practically crushed her to his side.

“ _I’m sorry,”_ he kept mouthing, hands too busy to be of help. His lips forming complex words in a language even Kisuke seemed to have trouble with. “ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”_

“Link?” Ichigo said, keeping his distance as he entered the room. The boy didn’t seem to be able to see him, as he continued mouthing the same words over and over again against her hair. This obviously scared the child in his arms, and Zelda began crying as well, as she shook her head.

“It wasn’t your fault.” She said, tears brimming in her eyes. But Link couldn’t hear it. She pulled away, just a couple inches, so she could press a hand to his chest. No, she said with her hand, almost pinching his skin. No, no, no.

This shocked him enough that she could separate a little more to properly sign. She repeated her sentiment, her gestures sharp and angry.

“It’s not your fault.” She said. “It’s never been. Saving our world is also my responsibility. It wasn’t your fault. He beat us, sure. We died. But you have come back to me, time and time again. So raise your head, hero. Be proud, my champion.”

And the crying teen smiled, got down on one knee and kissed her hand. He pressed it to his forehead and looked up at her.

 

It unnerved him a little, but mostly it broke Ichigo’s heart to see and hear these children mourning for lives past, mourning for failing to save others, being chained down by memories and fate to the end of their existence. So maybe he wasn’t a solution (yet), but what he could do was walk in there and say, both with his hands and mouth. “Do you want a hot coco, or tea?”

I’m here, he tried to convey. I’m here if you need help. I’m here, so just tell me how to help you.

“We could also go to our room and we can tell you a story, or two. Ichigo knows a lot.” Kisuke piped in, just as solemn as his husband. But instead of signing his name, he signed for Carrot, which almost made Link smile.

He sniffed, rubbed the snot off with his sleeve and nodded in a vague agreement to everything. He still had dark bags under his eyes, his nose was runny and his eyes were haunted by something of ages past. But he let himself be guided by his princess over to them.

He quietly took Ichigo’s hand, as Zelda took Kisuke’s, and hand-in-hand they trailed out of the messy, dark room, into the well-lit kitchen.

The warm light, the easy laughter and the warm tea going down his throat soothed a pain that had never been treated for centuries worth of lives. Zelda’s smile and laughter seemed to indicate she was feeling it too.

They were always so busy saving the world, that once the memories came and the pain awoke, they never quite had time to … heal.

Link held his hands against his mouth and drew them away. “Thank you. Thank you so, much.”

He repeated the motion several times, until Ichigo gently stopped him with a hand over his.

“It’s okay,” he said. He pressed his hands gently before letting go so he could sign. “Anytime. Happy to help. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask. You are a protector, just like me. So you know what I feel like, right? You know I want to protect the both of you, right?”

Link smiled and laughed, but somehow he still seemed exhausted.

With a grimace, Ichigo wondered just how many times he must have heard those words. How many he must have said those words.

 

How many times must they have become lies?

 

So, maybe it was not a fix, maybe nothing would ever glue back their broken hearts, but whenever they were unable to sleep with the weight of the world on their shoulders, Ichigo and Kisuke would open their room for them, make them tea, or food, or hot milk, they read a book, or watched a movie, or simply turned their bed into a pillow fort, and hugged their children tight, until they could sleep one more night.

It wasn’t a fix, but it certainly helped.

 

 

* * *

Ichigo would like to think that his children had begun healing. Finally, after who knows how long, they had begun to heal. But of course, before any of them were truly ready, fate came a calling.

Fate and destiny alike.

One morning, in which Kisuke had lost a bet and was tasked with trying not to burn the kitchen for breakfast. One morning, in which neither Zelda or Link had had a nightmare, a vision.

One morning, that Ichigo woke up to the smell of coffee, with his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

One morning he woke up, and knew there was something wrong.

He bolted up and went to check up on them. It was silent.

That one morning he saw them both staring at the back of their palms, something old and ageless in their eyes.

“It’s time,” Zelda said, looking a decade older. She smoothed out the over-sized shirt she slept in, as if it was the most royal gown. She stood up, and Link hurried to her side to agree and bow.

Until then did they turn back to Ichigo.

“Thank you, for showing us kindness.” Somebody much older than the tiny child in front of him said. “Traversing to this world may have been a mishap, but we are truly grateful, for this chance encounter. But we are being called. Time is of essence, to stop Hyrule from succumbing– this one at the very least– so we must make haste. We wish we had a way to properly show our gratitude, and we apologize for being unable to do so.”

Ichigo was silent. Deadly silent as it dawned on him that his children were going to leave. Leave to fight a war they have fought countless times already. Lost, worried, the words wouldn’t come out.

“Surely you have time for one last breakfast?” Kisuke spoke up behind him, voice modulated and kind. “Or how is the Queen and her Champion meant to win a war on an empty stomach?”

Zelda visibly hesitated and Link actually laughed. He turned to her, playful despite everything and lifted his left hand.

Ichigo and Kisuke could see, bright as day, the blazing symbol of the chosen warrior of the Triforce, a perfect replica of the drawing Zelda had shown them.

Link grinned and lifted just his index. One, he said. Just one last meal, together as a family.

The Zelda of ages past was thrown out of a loop– this wasn’t something she had experienced before, but they could all understand what it meant for everyone involved.

A farewell party, a wish-you-well reunion.

The tiny child giggled and threw herself at Ichigo. “Let’s eat!”

 

* * *

Ichigo watched their kids disappear into the portal, concern and worry eating away at him. “They’re just kids, Kisuke.” He told his husband, memories of his youth coming back to haunt him. “They’re too young and there’s nobody to help them.”

Kisuke looked back at him, “well then, it would make us a very neglectful pair of parents to let them go gallivanting on their own, don’t you think?”

Ichigo stared at him, honestly wondering why was this even in doubt. He laughed, as he discarded his body, swung it over his shoulder and headed straight into the unknown world.

Kisuke looked back at his shop, wondering if this was the last time he would see it, and as he unsheathed Benihime he laughed and decided he didn’t really care.

His home was where Ichigo went, after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to drop a comment!


End file.
